Category: Infertility

Baby, Baby, Baby … All I Hear is Baby, Baby, Baby

Everyone wants to know if the 2nd round of Clomid was successful …. but before I say no … it might be too soon to tell. Here’s the story:

I should have started my period yesterday, I did not. I was bullied by R. (the Sister in Law, also trying to get pregnant) to take a pregnancy test, that came out negative, but I am still probably (maybe?) too early to tell.  So I guess we are still waiting. Why are the details so complicated?

Craving FroYo Does Not Mean You Are Pregnant

So now that we are in our first ‘Two Week Wait’, I am finding every little thing might indicate a baby in the belly. Today I noticed my belly a little rounder and a strong desire to eat bowls and bowls of frozen yogurt from those trendy, hipster DIY places. This probably doesn’t indicate I am pregnant, it probably just means I am a being a fat girl. I don’t think it happens this fast.

Can I also talk about how annoying sites that tell you ‘how to survive the Two Week Wait’ are? Apparently, during these two weeks I should be indulging in spa treatments, learning a new hobby, spending romantic time with S. and being nice to myself. Where are the women who do this? Do they have a job? I am going to be so busy with work, chairing a church committee, taking care of the dog, and going about my business that I won’t have time to focus on spa treatments OR wondering if I am pregnant. Perhaps I am a little judgy about this because it’s our first opportunity to ‘wait’, but for now I am rolling my eyes.

As I write this I am feeling a little tired. I must be pregnant. Or it’s time for bed.

Preach it Tori!

I have loved Tori Amos every since she wrote ‘Jackie’s Strength‘. Yes as a 29 year old I recognize now it is about Jackie Onassis, but as an angsty teen I was SURE it was about me. Anyway … I came across this quote from her and it hit home today as so many people are announcing their pregnancy and showing pictures of their newborns. I am happy for them, and appropriately sad for me. Today of course. Tomorrow may be different.

The anger lies in each of us; it just depends on how you deal with it. You have to dive into your own psyche, to find out who lives there. Most of the time, the monster that hides inside you, is the one you let loose on others. I’m not afraid of sadness. Yet even when you cry, until you can’t cry anymore, you get to the point where you decide, for example, that you want to play with a drummer. Sadness lets you wear stilettos, sadness lets you dance in the moonlight. She just has dark rims around her eyes.

Want a Fertility Bracelet. Or I Just Want Jewelry

I decided a few days ago, in my Clomid induced depression, I want fertility jewelry. After that depression lifted, I realized, I probably just want jewelry. Which strikes me as so silly since I wear my wedding rings and a pair of studs everyday (for someone who has 3 holes in each lobe, I never use all at once). I just don’t indulge in jewelry.  Is there even such a thing as fertility jewelry?

Yes. Yes there is. And Etsy is the place to find them. Oddly enough, in my research, I have yet to find ‘proof’ that certain stones help in fertility. Obviously, I love the concept of Eastern Medicine. I’ve found information on reiki, acupuncture, yoga, meditation and herbs … but no stones. Tell that to the masses on Etsy who got the memo that rose quartz and moonstones are the key to babies.  I assume it’s true, because if you are going to make up a fertility ‘stone’ it should be diamonds.

I would love to see S’s face when I ask for a diamond tennis bracelet to help me get knocked up. Women around the world would be buying birth control in secret while adding to their jewelry collection – “Not this month hun, but Jared’s is having a sale on diamond earrings!’ ….

Here are a few of my favorites:

Let’s Give it Another Go

Phew. I just got off the phone with another amazing nurse at my OB/GYN’s. I called because a) I never ovulated b) I got my period c) I have no idea what I am doing next.

Here’s the good news (What? Good news?!) – since I had my period, I don’t have to suffer through Prometrium. AND (yes, ther eis more), I got my period on my own. Dare I say my body is on the road to cooperating?

The bad news … I am on a higher dose of Clomid. Yes, I know what I am in for side effect wise, but because I know, I am not looking forward to it. But without the Prometrium, this is going to go much faster I think. 5 days of 100mg of Clomid, then peeing on a stick (and my hand).

Maybe this time.

I am Not Pregnant or a Man

Can I be real for a minute? I am going to write more on this later, but basically, women’s bodies are a bit on the gross side. Which leads me to my body with PCOS.

Ladies blessed with PCOS know the side effects – weigh gain, high testosterone, cysts, missing period … and facial hair. There I said it. Facial hair (PS – S. has no idea I have chin hairs. At least I hope not.). Thankfully birth control kept it to a minimum, but now that I off the pills, I am sporting a 5 o’clock shadow … and a noon shadow …. and a 9 o’clock in the effing morning shadow. 

Before, a simple morning glance would result 2-3 plucks, but now I could spend at least 20 minute plucking and searching. Remember Tim Allen in the Santa Clause? When he was in denile of being Santa, he woke up, had a huge, bushy white beard, shaved, walked away from the mirror, walked back and the big bushy beard again … that’s how I feel! Well, not as bad, but seriously.

Sometimes I have a hard enough time getting out of bed, now I have a reason. I would be mortified if anyone saw me with a full beard.

Nurse Betty. Or My New BFF

I was originally writing a post about how impatient and uniformed I am about what the heck I am doing regarding drugs, calendars and when it’s time to panic. I decided it’s time to call my doctor and figure out what the eff is up.

Lucky for me, I spoke with Nurse Betty. I am not using real names in this blog (frankly, the protect the innocent bystanders in my hormonal rages), but Nurse Betty is really named Betty. If you imagine what a nurse named Betty looks and sounds like, that’s my Nurse Betty.  So, please don’t Google a nurse named Betty in the DC Metro area and harass her. She is so grandmotherly and southern, she might be our unborn baby’s namesake by the time this crap is over.

So anyway … I talk to Nurse Betty, who is delightfully no bullshit, and she tells me to be patient. I explained I stopped Clomid on the 2nd and still haven’t ovulated, and we decided to wait another week for the smiley face (her words). If nothing happens, I need to an early pregnancy blood test, then we start this whole process over with a higher dose of Clomid. After 3 cycles of the Clomid, and no pregnancy, I will get to visit a Reproductive Specialist (dun, dun, dun.)

I also explained, I read What to Expect Before You are Expecting (more on that later), and it said to take the fertility test in the middle of the day because morning pee-pee could give a false negative. She, very nicely, informed me pee-pee is pee-pee. Good, I was about to go bat crap crazy if I missed my ovulation window.

Would it have killed the Backup Doctor to alert me to all these details?

Congrats Snooki. Or “I am Still Not Pregnant”

Even if you’ve never seen Jersey Shore, which I have not (trust me, I have many, MANY other guilty pleasures), you know who Snooki is. I imagine the show features her like any other MTV reality star – drunk, hooking up and actin’ a fool.  And now I give her my congratulations – pregnant and engaged!

I can’t help but feel a moment of fury. I am eating better, seldom drink, hit the sack before midnight, sleep with just my husband and have a relatively calm life. And I am not pregnant. Not even ovulating. When will it be my turn? I am sure many women dealing with infertility have this same feeling. 

A Whole Lotta Nothin’

I should have updated sooner, but there hasn’t been much to report about the baby makin’ status. I have been peeing on the ovulation kit and so far, the empty circle has been showing up. It dawned on me yesterday that I might NOT ovulate this round. Which gives me a feeling of defeat. I would hate to think the past few weeks were for nothing. BUT – it’s too soon to get worried. I took to Google again and a lot of women said they ovulated about 7 days after their last Clomid.

Here’s to a whole lotta nothin’.

A Conversation with S.

I couldn’t have found a more understanding partner if I tried.  I am not being sarcastic, he really is understanding and tries to help and do what I need.  Today is the perfect example. I sent an SOS email to S this morning when I realized that I could be pregnant in the next few weeks. This is awesome, except I badly need to have my hair dyed since [the illusive] THEY don’t recommend having it done during the first trimester.

I find that idea pretty funny, as if the small amount of ammonia seeps into my brain, leaves no damage, but could hurt my unborn baby. You would think it would be a bigger deal if it was a real problem. But alas, I will follow what THEY say.  Which prompted me to email S., who called me laughing.

It went a little something like this.

Me: Hello?

S: I shouldn’t laugh, but I am.

Me: I know, it’s irrational.

S: Make a hair appointment for next week.

Me: It’s really stressful to think of the stuff I have to give up when I am pregnant. Of course, I will do so without complaining, the baby is more important, blah, blah, blah

S: I know, it will be an adjustment for me too. I’ll have to pick up the slack around the house, I am not going to have you …

Me (in my hormonal craziness): Oh really? Call me when you can’t have your daily Diet Cokes.

I am pretty sure there will be a post about what changes come when you are growing a person. Obviously worth it, but you know what I mean right?

PS – Today was, thankfully, my last day of Clomid. Tomorrow I start peeing on a stick! Hooray!